Gender Incompatibility
by BlueBerryBoo
Summary: "I still don't see the big deal." Robin thinks. It's a wonder how girls and boys speak different tongues and make it through.


I don't see why she's making such a big deal.  
Girls.  
"Just apologize, man."  
"For what? The guy was about to break her neck!"  
Silence.  
"Sometimes you gotta swallow your pride and apologize even when you're obviously right."  
I flip through channels.  
"Look man, girls care about this stuff. People care about stupid stuff. Beastboy with his heck-a-nasty tofu. Raven with her heck-a-scary horror books. Me with my T-car. My beautiful, baby, T-car. Try to understand."  
Flip. Flip. Flip.  
"Man, do what you want, but don't come dragging your sorry butt when Star stops talking to you."  
"I'm kind of hoping you'd stop talking to me, to be honest."  
He lowers his head down with two fingers on his pulsing temple.  
He forces out the most large, exaggerated and rigid smile with flared nostrils and huge eyes.  
He slowly sounds out; "FiNe."

Earlier, there'd been a citizen with a mental instability that had been running around loose from the medical centre. The mayor had asked us to bring him safely back to the centre and specifically asked us not to harm him. It seemed simple enough, but much harder when it came to it. He was strong - it was hard to contain him while leaving him without a scratch.

I tried approaching him with caution, the way I once did with Starfire when we first met her. It worked in the sense that he wasn't afraid of me, in fact he completely ignored me and ran by. I almost felt rejected. Raven tried to teleport him, but she couldn't focus because of his rapid brainwaves, instabling her own focus, something she said she'd never experienced before. Beastboy tried to lure him back to the centre by shape shifting to a puppy and having him follow behind. People follow puppies don't they? Cyborg tried a different approach. He blatantly grabbed both his upper arms and tried to carry him to the centre, but the man squirmed and kicked continuously, and ended up kicking Cyborg square on the jaw, causing him to let go of his grip.

Starfire didn't need to do anything. He walked towards her on his own. Then suddenly unexpectedly he grabbed a hold of her hair and twisted it on one hand, yanking her head towards him aggressively. So I obviously acted. You know Starfire- she wouldn't have done anything on her own if it would hurt him! So I went a little rash and I, well.  
Okay well what happened was,  
I took my birdarange and then  
I cut her hair, okay?  
and I still don't see the big deal.  
It's not like a took a razor and shaved it off,  
it's just to her shoulders!  
Anyway, she's been moping around in her room all day. And it's my fault apparently. She's got to learn to be a little more- or a little less- or at least- well I don't know, but she's just got to learn. But I, on the other hand, had a pretty productive day. See, first I went from a swim on the roof pool, because it's blazing hot out; played a game of chess with Raven -which I lost not once, but four times; then Cyborg and I went shopping for new car covers for the T-car, which took 3 hours. Cyborg is an indecisive and squealing teenage girl when it comes to his T-car. I chuckle.

Lunch already? Sweet. Beastboy packed a picnic lunch for us to have on the shore of the T-Island. Cute kid.  
Something I would picture Starfire would do, though.  
I sigh. Because she still isn't out of her room.

And I kind of miss her.

But I'm way too proud to admit it.

So I get in front of her door and knock.  
"I am not hungry. Thankyou."  
"I wasn't offering."  
A pause.  
"Can I come in." It didn't come out sounding like a question.  
A pause, then the doors slide open.

She's moping on her bed, being completely unproductive as I expected. She's laying on her side, giving me her back. Similarly, I give her my back as I look around her room and find Silkie on the shelf beside the door. I stroke his fur again and again, him almost purring in satisfaction.

"We're training tonight." I say sternly. Now that I look back, I may add that it was a little too stern than necessary.  
"I am aware." She replies in a similar tone to mine. It looks as if we were playing the same game.  
"You haven't been productive all day."  
"just as you have not been sensitive."  
"Why are you so upset?" My voice at that point broke the flow and wasn't as sassy nor stern. It was rather genuine, aggressive but not in an angry way, in a confused way.

"It is silly,"  
she takes a pause, then sighs, seeing that I wasn't going to interrupt. She continues.  
"On my planet, long hair represents honour and beauty. A woman would only have her hair cut if she was disgraced, or she had done an act that put dishonour upon herself and her family. It is most shameful for me to have my hair only barely preceding my shoulders, unlawful for a princess especially."  
I'm then silenced, because I feel horrible with myself, for judging her without understanding her point of view.  
I sit down on her bed, with both our backs still to each other.  
"and it makes me feel," she continues,  
"dishonourable?" I ask,  
"unsightly."  
So in other words, ugly. I notice her mirror is covered with a blanket.  
"You're right. That is silly" I get off her bed to stand up, about to leave.  
She stiffens, then angrily gets up on her hands and faces me.  
" Are you not going to apologize!"  
I turn around and see her flushed face and her brows furrowed  
But she's so beautiful  
and I can't apologize for cutting her hair because her it brings out her eyes so beautifully.

I walk towards the door and pick up my wallet that I left on the shelf beside Silkie.  
I turn back and walk towards her. "One of the most honourable and beautiful woman I know."  
I hand her a picture in my wallet.

_Star's POV_

I am angry and jealous of him at the very same time. Angry that I thought he'd understand my rational insecurity and jealous because of this beautiful woman I am to hear of. Although, I still take the photo he's handed me.  
I see a blonde blue-eyed beauty, a woman in her early thirties, with a black dress collar with white polkadots, something in the style of the 80s. I don't see his point until I realize the length and style of her hair is just as mine.  
"She is… indeed beautiful." I say and cannot help but smile, which angers me further because at that point, I insisted on being angry.  
"And I'm a witness to her honourable character."  
I look at him for the first time today and he smiles,

a smile identical to that of his blonde blue-eyed mother.


End file.
